Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

April 11, 2008

 Today’s Announcement

Happy Birthday greetings for Michael Morgan:  mick_morgan@hotmail.com

Happy Anniversary Mario and Alice Castro:  reyjaz@aol.com  and

Dave MCCurley and wife:  davemcc@cox.net

Storytime Tapestry needs more stories, please write them and send them on, if you want to continue having a daily e-zine.

Don’t forget to order your copy of Angels Watching Over Me, the story of an ordinary woman facing less than ordinary challenges.  Angels Watching Over Me is a story of family love, sacrifices, poverty and an undying faith that makes heroes out of all of us. Here is the link in case you have forgotten it: http://www.lulu.com/content/964306

Important notice: Storytime Tapestry is a free e-zine, however donations are always needed to help with the operating expenses of running the newsletter and to keep Storytime Tapestry the quality newsletter you are so accustomed to.   You can make your donations to paypal at: winterose@videotron.ca, or if you would prefer to use the mail system contact the publisher at the same email address: winterose@videotron.ca

 ~**~**~

 
Bologna Sandwiches
by Clara Wersterfer
cbwest@webtv.net

 
My great-grandfather suffered from itchy feet, or wanderlust. He was a dreamer. By the time he was 30 years old, he had a wife and three children. This slowed him down a bit, but didn't stop him from dreaming of travel.

Tom's wife, Elizabeth had the good fortune to be born into a family that was of fair means and money. Tom was a farmer, but the work proved to be too hard for him. He would plow a row and rest under a shade tree, dreaming of far away places full of people and excitement. Some days he didn't even plow a row, but rather sat on the creek bank fishing, wondering if he would follow the creek to its end, where would he be?

One morning he got up, packed a few things, took the money from the cookie jar and told Liz he would see her in a few months. He was going to look for work. Having no formal work experience or training, I'm sure Liz questioned what kind of work he would look for.

Tom knew his in-laws would take care of Liz and the children.  Having talked to some of his cronies who sat around at the local store, Tom had learned how he might travel for free.

Hitching rides on trains was easy. One could travel east to west, north to south for nothing. If you were caught hitching, they made you get off and you waited for another train. They told him things to take along, like a bar of soap, a good pocket knife, blanket, wash cloth, towel, can opener, razor, etc. He was told you must look fairly neat in order to get a temporary job on the road. He had packed accordingly.

When Tom arrived at the train station he spotted a couple of hobos ready to board. They
struck up a friendship and slipped into one of the empty boxcars. Tom learned his way around hoboing on that trip. The two hobo friends told him to divide his money, putting some in each shoe and some in his pockets in case he was robbed. Spend your money sparingly, buying canned beans, bologna and bread. Also to sleep with your back to the wall. Use your suitcase as a pillow. Good lessons for a novice hobo.

He was gone five months, working a little here and there to earn money for food. He
returned home before the snow fell.

Almost two years passed before Tom felt he had to go again. He made a good crop and with the extra money, he was gone. Times were getting harder. He had trouble finding someone to hire him for a days pay. Nevertheless, when the weather turned cold, he hopped a train bound for Florida. The beauty of being a hobo was following the sun.
He enjoyed sleeping on the beach and found a dishwashing job that lasted a month. He was able to eat there and could forgo his daily fare of bologna sandwiches. This trip kept him away from home for 14 months. He returned home bragging about all the states he visited.

He continued his pattern of home again, gone again for many years. He delighted the children with stories of the things he had seen. The exotic places, foods, people. Tall buildings abounded in cities, with elevators to move you to the top floors in just minutes. Tom confessed he entered many buildings just for the ride to the top. Children danced on
the streets for pennies. Street vendors sold all sorts of things.
 

Tom was now 54 years old and after a couple of years at home, his feet were getting the old familiar itch. He wanted to make another tour. Back to the rail station he went, suitcase in hand. The train was pulling away and he had to catch it on the fly, or running along beside it and grabbing on to the attached metal ladder. Tom had done it hundreds of
times.

This time was different. Somehow he tripped and fell, maybe from the weight of the suitcase, his right leg went under the wheels, severing it above the knee. This would be the end of Tom's travels. He would spend his last years telling anyone who would listen, of all the places he visited and of the sights. Often times shedding a tear. Some days Tom would stare wistfully out the window for hours on end, without talking, just looking at nothing.

Liz knew the wanderlust had taken over, the call of the rails was strong and his mind was someplace else. Maybe Tom was thinking about bologna sandwiches and beans, or places he was unable to go now, except for in his memory.

Tom would only live another two years, however, for a big portion of his life Tom had been King of the Road.

Clara Wersterfer

cbwest@webtv.net
March 2008

   ~**~**~

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

Childhood Fun

Cynthia Groopman

 Oh, how joyful was childhood fun,

When we would jump, frolic shout and run.

Taking a ride in a cardboard toy box was certainly the highlight of a boring rainy day

, Crowning our sullen faces with smiles as we laughed all the way.

Being tickled by mother or dad,

Created giggles and no longer were we sullen or sad.

Being given a piggy back ride,

Oh, we were so mirthful inside.

Playing on the floor many board games or coloring in the special book were indeed great past times,

Adding blue skies of happiness and golden sunshine

Visiting the amusement park and being on the merry go round

That was where squeels of joy were heard and excitement and glee were found,

Building castles in the sand or taking a swim in the pool,

Were great activities in the summer when the time was our own and there was no school.

Now, as an adult, for these carefree times I so yearn,

but unfortunately, I must remember to realize and learn.

No longer am I engaged in child's play,

But I must concentrate on making a living and work diligently everyday.

Cynthia Groopman

cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

~**~**~

 What is April Like?

Cynthia Groopman

April is like a sudden cool shower of rain,

As sprightly dancing tiny raindrops laugh and swiftly jump onto the windowpane.

April is like a truly beautiful budding flower,

gently caressed by the warm sunshine's glow of exquisite majestic power.

April is like the sweet melody of a merrily chirping bird chanting a glorious morning song,

Expressing cheerfulness so mirthful and strong.

April is the new season's debut and charming beginning,.

As we flock to the ballpark and root for the home team at each baseball inning.

April is like a smiling face laden with springtime glee,

As children play, frolic and romp with zeal, enthusiasm and renewed energy

Cynthia Groopman

cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

~**~**~

Smiling Angels

Cynthia Groopman

Smiling angels bless us with everlasting love,

Kindling into our souls deep radiant light from heaven above.

When our hearts weep with sorrowful distress,

Smiling angels renew our souls with embraces of zest.

Smiling angels calm us with tranquility and soothing thoughts,

Caressing us with gentleness so lovely and soft.

Of course, there are smiling angels dwelling on this earth

Sharing with us their kindness, compassion, generosity, joy, gladness, and optimistic mirth.

Cynthia Groopman

cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net

~**~**~

  Mailbox

Here is our Storytime Tapestry Angels: Also, I would like to thank those of you who chose to be a silent angel and gave an anonymous donation to keep Storytime Tapestry up and running.

Clara Westerfer, Mark Crider, Rosanne Catalano, Paula Booher, Kay Seefeldt, Mariane Holbrook, Mary Ellen Grisham, Louise Nomani, Sharon Bryant, Angela Walker, Hart and Helen Dowd, Keith Ready, Ginger Morgenstern, Ellie Braun-Haley, Surinder Jandu, Bob Shaw, Carol Meeks, Charlotte Hilliard, Marilyn Sink, Victor Buhagiar, Clarice Hinson, Conrad